


I call it love

by nupoxsi



Category: Ylvis
Genre: 5+1 Things, Alternate Universe - No Wives No Kids, Fluff, Getting Together, M/M, Sibling Incest, Smooching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-06
Updated: 2015-02-06
Packaged: 2018-03-10 19:48:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3301370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nupoxsi/pseuds/nupoxsi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five different times in which Bård tries to confess his love for Vegard and one time he does.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I call it love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [how](https://archiveofourown.org/users/how/gifts).



> This work should’ve been posted back in January for Lorena’s birthday but *sighs* I have many commitment issues. I love you! And this is my belated birthday gift. Also, this is partially [Abigail](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Kolaflor/)’s fault, who kind of gave me the idea. This is really silly and fluffy tbh.
> 
> Endless kudos go to [Valentina](https://archiveofourown.org/users/take_a_bow06/) for patiently reading this.
> 
> Disclaimer: None of the stated below happened, all is fiction.

 

_One year and three months before it happens._

9:32 AM.

The best thing about staying at hotels is the food, whether you are having a fancy dinner or just a whim you can allow yourself to have from time to time. Not that Bård doesn’t enjoy eating homemade food, but whenever he has to stay at hotels he enjoys ordering things he wouldn’t usually eat at home. However, that morning the plate that stands in front of him doesn’t seem appealing at all. Bård sits at the table and idly stares at the cup of hot tea before him as he swirls the teaspoon to dissolve the sugar on it. It isn’t that he’s starting to regret the decision he’s taken after the waiter brought it to his table, he’s sure as hell it must be one of the best breakfast the hotel restaurant has to offer, but the more he looks at it, the more he’s sure he doesn’t feel like eating the almond croissant he ordered, not even with the chocolate frosting the tasty croissants come with.

Across from him, his brother is joyfully devouring his own meal. Contrary to Bård’s method of ordering something unusual, Vegard’s breakfast consist of an ordinary set of scrambled eggs and a couple of french toasts. He is practically beaming as he eats, and an involuntary smile creeps on Bård’s face as he curiously eyes him. His older brother has been an early bird for as long as Bård can remember, one of the things that makes quite a difference between the two of them. Most of the times, whilst Vegard starts his day with a smile and cheerfully singing, Bård wakes up in a cranky mood and has to wait for some minutes before getting on with his routine. Which is one of the reasons he strongly believes breakfast is unnecessary, half an hour in the mornings that goes to waste, an excuse people use to wake up earlier than they should. People can live without breakfast, especially if they get a balanced meal for lunch. However, Bård usually goes with it whenever he’s in brother’s pleasant company —which is something that happens frequently—, because only then he feels he isn’t wasting those minutes. They generally joke while they eat, speak about whatever pops in their minds, and Bård gets the chance to stare at him.

He sighs deeply as he removes the teaspoon from the cup.

Staring at Vegard has easily become his favourite hobby in the past six months. A part of him firmly knows it’s something he’s been doing intrinsically for his whole life but that has taken him _years_ to acknowledge. His blue eyes always seem to drift back to his brother’s features, lightening up the moment he recognises that heart-warming face. It’s the way things are, the way things have always been. It’s been half a year since the moment Bård accepted that piece of information, and with such realisation there were other concepts he started to grasp. The staring has only become stronger as days pass by, yet if Vegard notices, he hasn’t commented on it. The familiar moments when their eyes make contact often cause Bård to bit the inside of his cheek, finding himself completely lost in the depth of his brother’s brown eyes. All of the cheeky smiles, the usual winks, and even the playful pats on his shoulder mean so much for Bård, little things he’s learnt to treasure and to long for.

What came after the awareness of his constant staring wasn’t truly a surprise. If it surely started with little glances he took at his brother in the most uncalled times, it has grown into something Bård can hardly control anymore, something that happens more times than he would like to admit. He can’t limit himself to look at Vegard only when he’s speaking or when he’s looking away, it’s much more than that. Whenever Vegard bends over to pick something from the floor and the curve of his butt is visible thanks to the tight pants he wears, Bård is staring. If Vegard is changing his clothes next to him when they are backstage, Bård is staring. Hell, even all the times that the old habit Vegard has to flicker his tongue over his lower lip comes afloat whilst he’s giving an interview or talking to a guest, Bård is staring. He has seen himself in recordings of their show and even in some of the interviews they’ve given in the last months, and he feels utterly embarrassed for being caught on camera showing so many signals of lust and longing whenever his eyes set on his brother.

If he can see such signals himself, he suspects Vegard will be able to see them too. The desire, the craving for something he isn’t sure he can have, and the uncontrollable love. God, _especially_ the love, because Bård is in love with him, he loves him more than life itself. He’s loved him for years, and being _in_ love with him only means that all that affection has shaped into something even bigger, something he’s been keeping to himself for months. And the thing is, Bård is well known for not lying to Vegard. Their professional relationship has lasted for as long as it has because there aren’t secrets between them, no lies, nothing that might cause some kind of altercation in the future.

Which is why he must come clean about the issue now.

“Vegard?” He speaks in a calm voice, feeling the anxiousness rise on his insides.

His brother, now leaving forgotten the remains of scrambled eggs on his plate to eat some of the cookies the hotel has given them as a gift, lifts his head after registering Bård’s voice and their eyes meet in an usual encounter. People can talk a lot of bullshit about brown eyes, how common and simple they are, but Bård has always loved them in spite of the countless times he’s made fun of the physical differences between them in the past. His brown eyes in contrast to Bård’s blue, chubby cheeks that never quite developed in such manner in Bard, perfectly curly hair opposed to golden locks. Those differences are what make them both so unique.

“Hmm?”

“You wouldn’t punch me while we’re having breakfast in a foreign country, would you?”

Vegard drops his half eaten cookie on the plate next to his tea and stretches his arm without making much effort. In spite of himself, he doesn’t get to touch Bård without having to stand up from the chair. Bård shakes his head, chuckling to himself.

“I would have to stand up from the chair, so I’ll take no as my final answer.”

Bård takes a deep breath.

This is the time.

“Okay, because there’s something I’d really like to talk to you and—…”

His voice is shut by the loud and annoying ringing of his phone. Who the fuck downloads _Nokia Tune_ on a smartphone?

Vegard. That’s who.

And Bård has never verbally complained about it because he doesn’t really want to get lectured on how the _‘Nokia Tune’_ is actually a musical piece that’s over a hundred years old, he knows better than that. Bård has already had enough from the time he complained about the messages tone and he was lectured for almost thirty minutes on how Nokia is one of the greatest communications companies in the world for the mere fact of incorporating Morse Code into their ringing and messaging tones. Honestly, Vegard is such a nerd.

 _I wonder if that’s why I love him so much_ , Bård muses to himself as he stares at his brother’s grinning expression. Vegard has so many pretty features that Bård would grow old and senile if he tried to number them. Though if  really had to, he’d probably start with the eyes, and then follow with the two little freckles he has on the end of his right eyebrow, and his nose, his lips, even his cheeks. Vegard is the definition of cuteness.

“Wait, hold on,” his brother says as he reaches into his pocket to pick up the phone. “Hey, oh— yes, hi…” His face morphs into one of utter concentration for a moment, eyebrows furrowed together and lips pursed. Then, as a couple of second pass by, his features relax noticeably. “It’s Jørgen,” he mouths at Bård. “Yeah, I’m— yeah, he’s here with me,” Vegard speaks on the phone, breaking the visual contact they’ve kept for a while now. Bård breathes deeply as he crosses his arms over his chest and leans back on the chair. “Oh, okay, thank you. Yes, that’d be perfect.”

After Vegard hangs up, he throws the phone over the table and his gaze fixes nostalgically on the plate of food in front of him. Bård immediately arches an eyebrow and takes a sip from his own tea. The words are itching to leave his mouth, he’s gathered enough courage to speak up and he’s never felt this ready, and may that phone call be damned for interrupting him when he was about to speak. Five months of making himself ready now thrown away.

“So, what did Jørgen want?” Bård inquires curiously, breaking a cookie by its half.

“He needs us to be on our way already,” Vegard says, which explains why his expression dropped again after he hung up. The older brother holds the fork and eats at least four mouthfuls of the scrambled eggs on his plate, and then proceeds to drop it carefully next to the plate. He reaches for the glass of water and takes a big sip. “Like, right now. We have an interview in twenty minutes.”

“Well, fuck,” Bård breathes out. He closes his eyes and runs a hand through his hair in an act of exasperation.

“Yeah, I know,” Vegard replies, and Bård can’t stop himself from thinking _you’re so far from knowing_. Still, he opens his eyes to find the phone has been picked up from the table. Vegard is already on his feet and with his jacket over that grey hoodie he seems to be so fond of lately, holding an open napkin on the palm of his hand and gathering cookies with the other. “A cab waits for us outside. You could grab the croissant for the road,” he advises, pointing at Bård’s plate.

The food remains untouched, the cup of tea down by its half, and a half eaten cookie next to his plate. Rather than picking the croissant up, Bård stands up from the chair and proceeds to put own his own leather jacket. At least he isn’t hungry, anyway.

“It’s fine, I’m ready.”

Vegard shoots him a look full of disbelief before adding three or four cookies to the small amount on the palm of his hand.

With nothing left to be said, the brothers share a flash nod before finally marching towards the lobby of the hotel. Bård keeps his hands hid on the inside of his pockets during the whole walk, while Vegard swings his free arm with ease with every hurried step he takes. They spot the cab easily on the outside, and it’s Vegard the one that does the greeting for the two of them.

Bård isn’t hungry, but when the cab is already in movement and he finds Vegard’s hand holding a cookie mere inches from his lips, he can’t really turn down the offer. Vegard’s smile is worth everything.

 

* * *

 

_Ten months and a half before it happens._

11:21 AM

 

“They said we’d be on in about twenty minutes.”

Out of the corner of his eye Bård is able to see Vegard walking back into the changing room. As usual, his older brother looks astonishing, and Bård can barely keep his eyes plastered on his reflection on the mirror rather than his brother’s features. Vegard told Bård he’d be right back a couple of minutes ago to look for someone who knew the show schedule. They are currently backstage on a rather important news channel, where they are to give an interview in twenty minutes, information provided by someone from the crew judging by the time it took Vegard to find out.

“And how sure are we about it?” Bård inquires, conscious of how some interviewers tend to call them before the lapse of time they inform them.

“Not much. Let’s call it fifteen minutes rather than twenty.”

Without having anything else to add, Bård nods. He is sat in front of the dressing table, where some minutes ago a make-up artist finished applying foundation and powder on Bård’s face. It’s funny how easily he has grown fond of carrying make-up on his face. He can’t deny that he was a bit vexed by the idea of wearing much make-up at the beginning of his career, but he’s gotten used to it with the pass of the time, and by now he can even recognise what foundation tone goes better with his skin tone. Oh, the perks of working on showbiz.

Through the reflection on mirror, Bård follows all of Vegard’s movements closely, wondering if his brother ever feels Bård’s eyes tracking him around the room. In truth, he must know, he must feel the piercing blue eyes on himself as he moves from one spot to the other, Bård barely tries to hide his interest anymore. If something, his attraction towards Vegard has probably gotten more evident in the course of the last months. _Is it ever going to change?_ He stares at Vegard’s clear image on the mirror ahead, gaze following carefully all of his movements, from the way his strong fingers play on the buttons of his shirt to the way a curl falls on his forehead and makes him wrinkle his nose in frustration. Vegard is concentrated on dealing with the plaid button up shirt, so every step he takes is slow and aimless, which allows Bård to enjoy himself for some seconds as his eyes drift to his brother’s backside. _Those fucking skinny jeans_ , Bård curses in his mind as he bites the inside of his cheek.

Once he’s done buttoning his shirt up, Vegard looks up from his now fully covered chest and his eyes meet Bård’s through the mirror. His older brother smiles kindly at him, and Bård takes in a deep breath. Vegard looks stunning in that outfit, and his hair is all perfectly in place but for that black curl that keeps on falling on his forehead without the older brother’s permission. Not that Bård would love him any less with a mass of messy curls —a rather beautiful sight in the mornings—, yet it’s undeniable Vegard looks amazing today.

“Ready for the interview?” His brother inquires in a funny manner as he approaches Bård from behind his back.

“I was born ready,” he replies with a cocky smirk, and he only breaks the eye contact with him the second he notices the proximity between them now. Vegard is practically pressing his upper body against Bård’s back, the scent of his cologne filling in Bård’s nostrils. _Fuck_ , why must he smell so good?

“That’s great!” Vegard’s hands drop heavily on top of his shoulders, squeezing them lightly. “I truly hope we don’t have to explain the origins of _The Fox_ again.”

“Why would they want to hear about that? It’s been like five months already.”

Vegard leans in as he idly kneads the muscles on Bård’s shoulders. His head is now next to Bård’s and some of his curls brush against the side of Bård’s neck. “Five months, but you know it’ll follow us forever.”

Well, Bård doesn’t know whether the song will follow him to the grave or not, but he knows for a fact that the way Vegard looks today day surely will. Vegard chuckles at his own comment and the warm puff of air is directly blown against Bård’s neck, causing a shiver to run down his spine. The way Vegard seems to know how to make Bård’s body react to his gentle touches without actually being aware is kind of hard to believe. Perhaps it’s just one of the perks of spending so much time together, just as always knowing what is on each other’s minds or communicating without the need of words.

“You have a point,” he offers instead, meeting Vegard’s brown eyes reflected on the mirror as he tilts his head.

Vegard flashes him one last grin before stiffening again behind Bård’s back. He pats his left shoulder twice before finally taking his hands off Bård and turning around. He is able to see Vegard taking the phone out of his pocket, and he suspects his brother might be resuming a lecture on some random topic he found on the internet rather than texting someone or playing some of the games he has downloaded. Bård knows him far too well.

He starts feeling a bit dizzy as he mindlessly lingers for the warmth of his brother’s hands on his shoulders. Part of him has been looking for the time in which he feels utterly disposed to tell Vegard that he’s in love with him. In the past months it’s been hard for him to find the perfect moment when the two of them were completely alone and he could speak his mind without holding anything back. There was always something that ruined the moment, be it the time of the day, the movie playing on TV, or even Calle bursting through the door to ask them something. Bård knows that the more he thinks about it, the more he waits for the perfect time, the more he keeps on planning how to proceed, the longer it will take him to gather the courage to speak up. It’s been weeks of letting things flow and simply let his heart decide when it’s the right moment.

And again, as his eyes set on the shape of his older brother reflected on the mirror, a little voice in his mind speaks. Why not now? The only thing Bård needs is to finally confess how he feels, and he truly isn’t inpatient to know what Vegard has to say. If he tells Vegard today and his brother needs time to come up with an answer about it, Bård will surely wait for whatever he might have to say.

In fact, yes. He wants to tell him now, because they are both in such a good mood and the more Bård stares at Vegard, the more he wishes he could kiss him until they both ran out of breath, even when he know he technically can’t. He truly doesn’t know what to expect from Vegard, yet there is a part of him that firmly believes his brother is unable of giving him a harsh response. None of them would admit it out loud, but Vegard has always taken care of Bård in the most ridiculous ways, even with insignificant little things. Bård doesn’t blame him, he knows it’s got something to do with being the oldest brother, but he does believe that the same brotherly mechanism will stop Vegard from having a critical response.

With his mind set on it, Bård stands up from the chair, which makes quite an annoying sound from being dragged on the floor, and marches forward to stand in front of his brother. The moment Vegard acknowledges his presence, he blocks his phone and puts it back on the front pocket of his pants.

“Hey.”

“Vegard?” He asks with a firm voice in spite of the inner doubts that aren’t so quiet in his mind. “There’s something I wanted to tell you.”

“Okay,” his brother immediately replies, yet before Bård gets the chance to talk again, Vegard speaks once more. “Wait, are you okay?” He inquires, furrowing his dark eyebrows and reaching to hold Bård’s shoulder. “Has something happened?”

“No, everything’s fine, it’s just…” He exhales. It’s not a shameless lie, only a white one, because something has happened, something has been happening for so long now that Bård can’t really recall when he started feeling like that, only when he noticed it. “Just, don’t interrupt me when I start to speak, okay?”

Vegard looks slightly hesitant, but he nods. “Okay.”

As if to encourage himself, Bård also nods. He can do this, he’s ready, he can finally confess the way he feels and cope with the consequences without minding if they are positive or negative.

And he’s ready, words about to leave his lips, but then his eyes spot a calendar on the wall which makes him remember the date and a wall crumbles right before his eyes.

Of course he would forget about that.

“And well?” Vegard incites to speak up, but nothing comes out of Bård’s parted lips.

_February the 11th._

_Fuck no._

The time is definitely not the right time. Bård has miscalculated date. He has fucked up.

He can’t tell Vegard he’s in love with him so close to Valentine’s Day. Jesus, what was he thinking? He isn’t that cheesy, and Vegard would probably be sceptical about the revelation.

His brain struggles to find an excuse, especially because he knows that if he tells Vegard to forget about it, his brother will only push him for an answer, and Bård truly doesn’t want that. Plus, if he gives a lame excuse Vegard will also be able to see through the cracks of the lie.

So, rather than making something up, Bård reaches to tug one of Vegard’s black curls playfully and forces out a cheeky smile.

His brain struggles to find an excuse, especially because he knows that if he tells Vegard to forget about it, his brother will only push him for an answer, and Bård truly doesn’t want that. Plus, if he gives a lame alibi he is sure Vegard will also be able to see through the cracks of the lie.

So, rather than making something up, Bård reaches to tug one of Vegard’s black curls playfully and forces out a cheeky smile.

“Your hair looks really good today.”

Vegard looks confused for a second, but then he chuckles. “Is that what you were going to tell me?”

“Yeah. It’s nice, I like it.”

“Is it truly what you want to say?”

“Yes, Vegard, it just looks fucking great.”

“Oh.” He crosses his arms on his chest and looks pleased with himself. “You shouldn’t prepare yourself that much to say a compliment, you know?”

Bård shrugs. “I know how embarrassed you get when I compliment you, so I figured it’d be better to give you a heads up first. You look good today.”

A faint pink colour spreads across Vegard’s puffy cheeks. What Bård said is true, Vegard has always had more problems with both taking and giving compliments than Bård. He can recall memories of when he was a teenager and saw Vegard on stage for the first times, and wouldn’t shut up about how talented his big brother was. Vegard always blushed and said little about it, and Bård learned that sometimes words didn’t work quite well with his brother, at least not as good as they should. He still enjoys giving Vegard a few compliments from time to time, only to let him know that in spite of the time that has passed since Bård saw him on stage for the first time, his opinions haven’t changed in the last bit. If something, he is even more proud of Vegard now.

“Well, that’s actually quite nice of you,” Vegard says with the kindest of his smiles, showing his white teeth and cheeks up in content. “Thank you.”

“So, the interview,” Bård insists before his brother is able to see there’s more to what Bård wanted to say, taking a moderate step back and rubbing his hands. “How long until we go on?”

In a synchronous manner, the two brothers turn towards the clock hanging on the wall before turning back to stare at each other. There are identical smiles drawn on their faces the moment their eyes meet, speaking without the need of words.

Bård shakes his head before turning back to his chair. He sits and keeps on a blank face, not letting his inner embarrassment show. His hands are on his hair and he tries to comb it to the left with his fingers. He should’ve been aware Valentine’s Day is only two days away, but he’s used to acting impulsively, driven by the strength he  in the moment.

“Hey, Bård?”

His eyes shift from his own reflection on the mirror to Vegard’s. His brother is smiling kindly at him, in that heart-warming manner that Bård so fondly adores.

“Yeah?”

“Stop touching your hair, it’s perfect as it is,” he says, taking Bård with his guard down. The blond man starts feeling his cheeks heating up and immediately wishes he could tear his gaze off his brother, but it’s impossible, he can’t. “I love when it looks like that.”

So rather than keep on fixing the blond strands of hair with his fingers, Bård drops both hands down to his lap and takes a brief glance of himself. Oh, there it is, he can see the rosy colour on his cheeks and nose even with the makeup on top. Is that the way Vegard feels whenever Bård tries to pay him a small compliment? Because if so, poor of his brother. His eyes find Vegard’s browns again, a bigger smile plastered on his features now.

“See? Looks perfect.”

Bård has to bite his tongue to keep himself from saying Vegard is the only perfect thing in the world.

 

* * *

 

_Ten months before it happens._

10:04 PM.

 

Bård’s body is still pumping with adrenaline when he finally gets the chance to walk into the dressing room. Hell, it was such a remarkable night that he is sure will be printed in his memory with indelible ink. It might sound a bit cliché, but he truly enjoys being on stage and showing the audience what he’s capable of, and that night things only went from good to excellent. Even once he hopped off the stage the energy stayed.

His brother was at his side when they met their friends and rest of the crew, and both Bård and Vegard were greeted by warm embraces and compliments that only made them happier. Just before opening the door, Bård met Calle outside the dressing room, seeing him for the first time after the show, and gave his friend one of the biggest hugs in the world, both grinning broadly and feeling incredibly joyful.

But of course, what Bård has been looking forward the most is to find Vegard alone.

They surely spoke without words the moments their eyes met at the end of the last song, saying a thousand words with mere gestures. Bård could see the amusement and proudness on Vegard’s face as hundreds of fans were clapping and cheering before the stage, and he only hoped that he was able to reflect what he was feeling as well. Yet ever since they walked backstage and got the chance to take off their costumes, it’s all been a mess of people walking around, of signing a couple of autographs and taking pictures with fans before continuing down the hall. In between so many things happening at once and people talking loudly all around, Vegard got lost from Bård’s eyesight, and he hasn’t been able to see him, not till now.

He steps into the dressing room to find Vegard already inside, sitting on a chair as he drinks from a bottle of water. His face lights up the moment he acknowledges Bård in the room, but he holds up a finger as he empties the bottle of water. Bård only nods in understanding as he eyes Vegard. He’s still wearing the black tank top, and the white glam jacket he uses during the _Jan Egeland_ part is hanging from the back of the chair. Bård immediately reaches for a bottle of cold water himself, and takes a sip before stepping closer to his brother. Vegard empties the whole bottle in one big gulp and an involuntary yet pleased ‘ _ah_ ’ escapes his parted lips before the corners of his mouth curve upwards.

“You’re here!” Vegard exclaims with a cheerful grin, jumping on his feet and tossing the empty bottle to the floor. “I lost you on my way here. One minute you were beside me and the other I was completely alone.”

“You tell me about it, I even shouted out your name but I think you didn’t hear me.”

“Hmm, I mustn’t have, or I sure would’ve stopped.” Vegard grins so wide that Bård suspects his brother is also experiencing the post-concert shot of energy. Vegard’s hair is curlier than ever, and some strands keep falling on his forehead even after his brother tries to brush them back. “But anyway, you’re here now!”

“I’m here now,” Bård echoes, playing idly with the bottle’s screw cap. His chest burns from the emotions he has inside, which he guesses do show on his face, because his brother takes a confident step forward.

“Well then,” Vegard speaks, opening his arms widely. “Come here!”

It’s all Bård needs to close the small space that divides them and fall into his brother’s warm embrace. His arms loop around Vegard’s torso whilst Vegard’s arms wrap around his neck. It should be the other way round, considering Vegard is the shortest out of the two, but the embrace feels perfect like that, with Vegard tiptoeing and Bård places his chin over the other’s shoulder. He holds the bottle of water in one hand and uses the other the rub Vegard’s back up and down a few times, enjoying the change from the soft fabric of his shirt to the scalding skin. In turn, Vegard only clings tighter onto him, pleased noises escaping his mouth, their skins slightly slick from all the sweating on stage. Perhaps it’s due to the adrenaline still bumping through his veins, but when their skin makes contacts Bård feels he’s burning up and he loves every bit of it.

Hell, Bård has missed hugging his brother for a long time. They share a tight bond that cannot be replaced, a kind of relationship that people might consider way too close for some’s liking, but they don’t hug quite as much as Bård would like them to. Though if it were up to him, he’d rarely take his hands off Vegard.

“You were incredible tonight,” Bård speaks first, words he’s wanted to say ever since the concert was over. “Your voice was flawless.”

“Oh, come on…” Vegard mumbles shyly. Always so difficult for him to take compliments. “You don’t give yourself enough credit,” he says close to his earlobe. His breathing feels warm as he speaks, and Bård closes his eyes to give into the moment. “You were just as amazing.”

“Hmm, but I know that,” he replies playfully. “I just want you to know that you did awfully good tonight, Vegard.”

“And so did you,” Vegard keeps on avoiding the compliment, and Bård can hear the smile reflecting on his voice. “ _We_ were amazing.”

They let go of each other after a while, but none of them dares to take a step back. Bård is suddenly thankful he locked the door once he walked in, because he doesn’t want anyone to bursting in and ruin the moment he has created with his brother. He feels so incredibly happy, a fuzzy feeling on his stomach as he stares at him.

This might be the time.

There are so many things he can say in that moment, he has rehearsed so many sentences, so many ways of saying how he truly feels. The words are itching to leave his tongue, and Bård needs to hurry before Vegard turns around to sit back on his chair. He does a quick check on his mind over the things he needs to explain, of how he has been feeling for months, of how much he wants Vegard to be with him. There are many things he wishes he could say, but rather than elaborating at the moment his mouth flies open, he ends up saying three words.

“I love you,” Bård confesses with his eyes shut, not really knowing what to expect his brother’s face to be. Maybe he’ll punch him for ruining the moment, or roll his eyes in annoyance.

However, once his eyelids flutter open, Vegard is still standing close to him and offering a heartwarming grin. “I know you do, Bård.”

“No, no, you don’t understand,” he hurries to say, shaking his head.  He glances up again to meet his brother’s eyes, and places a slightly shaking hand on top of his shoulder. “ _I love you_.”

“Are you stupid? Of course I understand, I know that you do.” Vegard reaches to hold the back of Bård’s neck, brushing his thumb over the skin. “And so do I. You know I am not the most talkative person when it comes to feelings, but, you know…I love you.”

Perhaps Bård didn’t say what he truly expected to, but Vegard’s response makes him feel like maybe confessing those three words instead of all he’s got to say is not entirely bad. He feels part of the weight being lift from his shoulders, but a small voice in his head still tells him there is something else he has to say. Or explain, at least. Because Bård loves him, but he loves him way more than Vegard thinks he does. It goes beyond the border of brotherly love and even surpasses the one felt by lovers. It’s quite hard for him to put his feelings for Vegard into words. Bård simply pictures his brother’s face when he hears the word happiness, he feels his pulse race when the two are close, his breath gets caught on his throat every time he looks at Vegard to find him staring back. Hell, Bård loves Vegard so fucking much, and he feels so lucky to be able to share so many parts of his life with him.

“You are the stupid one,” Bård says with a cocky smile, dropping his hand from Vegard’s shoulder to grab the bottle of water in both of his hands. “A complete idiot.”

“And so are you,” Vegard retorts. His fingers tangle on Bård’s hair and he tugs softly at it. “Such an emotional little idiot.”

“I might be an idiot, but you love me,” Bård teases, causing Vegard to let go of his hair and take a step back.

“Oh, shut up.”

“You said it,” he reminds him with a playful wink. “Deal with it.”

But honestly, behind the funny façade he puts on, Bård does feel like an idiot.

An idiot in love.

 

* * *

 

_Seven months before it happens._

11:04 PM

 

Bård lets the cold water wet his fingers as he idly stares at his reflection on the bathroom mirror. His hair is so greasy, probably should’ve washed it in the morning if he weren’t running late already. He only shakes his hands a little before bringing them to his hair, trying to give it some sort of better shape.

Once he is pleased with his looks, Bård drops his hands back to his sides and straightens his posture. Shoulders back, hands curled into fists, head up front. He nods at himself.

Okay. Everything is perfect.

He can do this.

Vegard is waiting for him to get back on the inside of the pub. His brother drove them there after a lazy day of working on future plans. It’s quite an ordinary day for them, but Bård has finally taken the decision of opening up to Vegard.

It’s taken him months to gather the courage to even think about doing it again. But after something common happened and his heart started to beat faster than ever, Bård told himself he had to do this as soon as possible, and this time he needs to set the record straight, express himself without holding anything back.

The previous night they were at Vegard’s place, eating remains of pizza from lunch and watching crappy TV. Long story short, time passed by way too quickly and without noticing they fell asleep on the couch. Bård woke up first facing the back of the couch. Everything would have been okay if it weren’t for Vegard’s arm thrown over his waist. If well they have slept in the same bed when they were kids, limbs tangled together and Bård using his brother’s chest as pillow, now that they are grown ups it’s quite different. Bård had to lie still as he felt Vegard’s warm breath on the back of his neck, feeling his fingers brushing against the lower of his abdomen, their bodies pressed together not to fall from the couch. He pretended to be asleep until Vegard woke up, and Bård swears he felt his brother’s lips brushing his shoulder before Vegard got up from the couch. And his heart skipped a beat, breath got caught on throat because he _felt_ them, warm and soft and leaving a tingling sensation on his skin.

That little act of brotherly affection —if that’s what it is called— lighted up a flame on Bård’s chest, perhaps even carrying a bit of hope. What if Vegard would do more than just understand Bård’s feelings? Is there a possibility for him to reciprocate them? It might be just a silly idea on Bård’s head, but if there is the tiniest of possibilities for Vegard to feel the same, Bård is now more than willing to speak up.

And today he feels disposed to do so.

He checks himself on the mirror one last time before turning on his heels and walking towards the bathroom exit.

The atmosphere in the pus quite nice, not many twenty years old around, mostly people around their age sharing a couple of drinks. Vegard told him the place is new, and Bård actually is glad his brother mentioned it before visiting it with someone else. Bård likes when they get the chance to go to a new place for the first time together. They share similar taste in things and usually have the same opinions over attention and decoration. If they are sharing a car, the drive back home is filled with jokes over the place, and if they aren’t they tend to leave the jokes for the next day when they see each other for lunch. It’s a cocky habit, Bård knows, but it’s also hilarious.

He spots Vegard’s black curls easily across the room. He is sitting by the bar, just where Bård left him before standing up. What he soon realises is that Vegard is talking to someone sitting by his side, apparently too caught into the conversation to notice Bård is slowly making his way back. He falls lightly on the high chair to Vegard’s right, and only then he gets the chance to eye the person his brother is so entertainingly talking to.

A girl not much younger than them is giggling as Vegard speaks, her straight brunette hair brushing her shoulders as she laughs. Her eyes are of a bright blue, a whole different shade than Bård’s but really pretty to glare at. Her nose is small and a dark shade of lipstick suits her just well. All in all, the girl is quite pretty, and it makes Bård feel uneasy.

“Vegard?” He calls him in a low voice, and his brother immediately turns.

The expression on Vegard’s face is typical of a child caught doing something their parents told them not to. The broad and full-toothed smile he carries drops as soon as he meets Bård’s eyes, and is quickly replaced by a warmest one, the kind that Bård knows is only saved for him.

“Oh, you’re back!” He exclaims, and Bård notices he’s ordered another beer while he was gone. “I was starting to worry about you.”

Bård arches an eyebrow. “You seem to be in good company.”

His brother seems confused for half a second, but then he turns towards the girl at his left and hums happily before staring back at Bård.

“Ah! Idunn!” He motions at both of his sides with his thumb. “You need to meet. Bård this is Idunn, like the norse Goddess. And Idunn, this is my brother, Bård.”

It’s surprising how little does Bård care about her name. However, it would be too rude not to accept her handshake, so he does and nods briefly in a polite way.

“I’m pleased to meet you, Bård.”

“Thanks,” he offers shortly and breaks the contact. Before he can fold his hands together, a pint of beer is placed in front of him. He offers the bartender a kind smile in turn.

“I told him to bring you another beer as soon you were back,” Vegard tells him with a wink.

“Ah, thank you.”

“No problem.”

And just as that, Idunn says something that gets Vegard’s attention, and soon a pumped conversation starts between the two. Bård feels his plan slowly crumbling down as he notices how much his brother is into whatever they might be talking about. He isn’t truly listening to it, doesn’t really care. However, as he takes a sip from his beer, Bård notices how she keeps playfully touching Vegard’s shoulder as she speaks, and how Vegard doesn’t try to stop her.

Is he enjoying it? Is he aware of the flirty touches and lustful looks she gives him as they speak? _He must be_ , Bård tells himself. He remembers one time they both hooked up at a bar with random girls, and the next morning when they met each other for breakfast they concluded they’d never do something similar again. Nevertheless, that was almost ten years ago, way before Bård finally understood that his lack of desire on women was strongly linked with fancying Vegard. Time flies.

But now he stares at Vegard as he drinks and he feels sick. He doesn’t want her to look at Vegard with her bright blue eyes, or put her hands on him as they resume their vivid conversation. Bård wants them to be alone again, to be able to have a small chat over the simplest of things before getting the chance to tell him how he feels. Though reality hits him like a trainwreck. Her hand is now down on Vegard’s thigh and Bård shakes his head in disgust.

If Vegard’s desires are to spend the night with Idunn then it’s totally okay, he has all the right in the world to do as he pleases, but Bård— Bård can’t keep witnessing it.

He stands up from the chair in a swift movement.

“Bård?” Vegard stops his giggles to shoot a concerned look at him. “Is there something wrong?”

Standing still close to the bar, Bård reaches for his drink and tightens his grip on it. Is there something wrong? He was ready to tell Vegard how he feels inside, to take the big step and finally lift the burden that’s been on his shoulders for months, but now there’s that girl practically crawling on top of Vegard and he feels his blood boiling inside his veins. Who does she think she is? Bård wants to scream out of mere frustration, but rather than that, he wants to give Vegard a punch on the face. Is it really so hard to realise there _is_ something wrong? That he isn’t comfortable with this?

“I don’t know,” Bård spits out keenly instead, drinking what’s left of the beer in one go. The bitter alcohol makes his throat cold and he clears it before speaking again. “And I don’t really care if there is.”

“What? Bård—”

“I’m going,” he hurries to inform before Vegard can say a word more. “I’ll take a cab, don’t worry.”

“Hey, but why? Are you feeling okay?” Vegard’s fingers wrap around his wrist. They are a bit wet from the pint of beer he’s been holding in his hand, and the contact makes Bård shiver. He feels the concern in his brother’s voice, but he can’t be talked out of disappearing. If the brunette girl is staying, he’ll go. He can see what her intentions are, and Vegard can’t be so naïve to mistake her seductive touches for friendly pokes. Does he even care? “What happened?”

“Nothing, I’m fine,” he hisses and squirms free from Vegard’s hold. He grabs his jacket from the back of the chair and runs quickly his fingers through the greasy hair. “Don’t worry, Vegard.”

In spite of his words, he sees the worry reflected in the dark of his irises. But still, if he lets his eyes travel a bit further he spots Idunn’s hand on top of Vegard’s arm, and his stomach flips. The green nail polish looks brighter in contrast with Vegard’s dark shirt, but he wishes he could brush her hand away and tell her to stay away from him.

It’s not okay, it’s so far from being okay that Bård wishes he could feel bad about scurrying away. Apparently his conscience isn’t working, because he doesn’t feel bad for disliking her. And he hopes Vegard dislikes her too, because he if not his heart might break.

He tries to tell himself she is just a girl his brother is talking to, that they just have interests in common and Vegard likes to have chats with people, but the thought of Idunn going back to Vegard’s place with him makes him want to throw up. He is jealous and he knows it. He is jealous because whilst he has been struggling for months to get some feelings out of his chest, this girl can come in with a small smile and put her hands on his brother as if she knew him as much as Bård does.

As if she loved him as much as Bård does.

“I hope you spend a wonderful night,” Bård says. The words are so bitter on his tongue that he feels proud of himself for saying them out loud. He puts on the jacket that he left on the back of the chair and pulls the high chair into the bar again. Before leaving, he turns towards the girl and gives her one hypocrite and forced smile, that he hopes Vegard catches a glimpse of.

Outside the breeze is cold and Bård runs a hand through his hair again. Would Vegard truly be able to take her home and forget about Bård for the rest of the night? The tiny flame of hope Bård had on his chest starts to fade. Maybe the light touch of Vegard’s lips against his shoulder was just that, a unplanned contact that his brother might have forgotten already. His heart shouldn’t shrink at the thought, but _oh_ , it does. It does and he has to breathe deeply to keep tears from forming on his eyes.

Bård feels awful and not a fucking cab seems to pass through that goddamn street.

 

* * *

 

_Four months before it happens._

8:57 PM

 

Maybe two shots of vodka is all he needs to try again.

Saying he doesn’t have anything to lose is blatant lie, because in truth he has _everything_ to lose. Yet then again, he doesn’t want to keep feeling the way he does. Why must he keep on hiding what he’s been so determined to confess? Why does he have to feel guilty every time Vegard finds him staring and offers him a kind smile that makes his insides twist in remorse just because his brother _doesn’t fucking know?_

Perhaps if he believed in some sort of higher presence that controlled his life, he would’ve given up after the second try, deciding to mind his own business and wait for the feelings to disappear. _As if that could be possible_. Thankfully, Bård knows better than to think all of the obstacles that have been put on his way are there thanks to some God’s mystical way of saying he is taking the wrong decision by telling Vegard. Because if Bård were to believe it’s all been _fate_ , something that has been planned long before he was born, nothing would prove what he feels is more right than said fate itself. The attraction he feels towards his brother is not merely physical, it is so much more complex than that, something that goes beyond borders of the way he looks and more into the way he is, things that are not palpable but that Bård knows they’re there.

Bård doesn’t believe in soulmates, but if there was a such thing like soulmates, there is no doubt Vegard would be his.

All in all, he already feels Vegard is his other half, the one that understands him in ways no other person could ever dream of doing, the one that can brighten his days with a soft word or a light touch, the person Bård never had to look for because he was already there. Vegard is so much more than just his brother and colleague, he’s his confident, his best friend, the piece of the puzzle that never went missing, an improved reflection of his own persona. Vegard means the world to him.

And he wants to tell him that, Vegard needs to know. When Bård says he’s in love with Vegard, he means that he cannot imagine his life without him in it, that he is the most precious thing in his life, even more important than the air in his lungs. It’s a burning fire that doesn’t go out inside of him, and Bård wants to tell him all about the way he makes him feel, from the smiles Vegard cracks out of him in the most uncanny times to the way Bård is mildly turned on whenever Vegard bends down in tight, skinny jeans to pick something off the floor. He needs to tell him everything.

Bård has been postponing it for too long, and he needs to find his brother and tell him.

Yes, that’s what he is going to do.

But before he dares to rise from his seat, Bård’s eyes shift from the shot glass to the bottle of vodka that is tucked in the corner of the table.

Three is a lucky number after all, isn’t it?

“And if it isn’t, then fuck it,” Bård mutters to himself as he reaches for the bottle and pours himself the third shot of the night. He’s already had a couple of beers before, and he surely will be regretting mixing up different kinds of alcohol in the morning, but as he holds the shot in hand, he feels it’s all he needs to regain the strength he’s lost in the last month.

The strong alcohol burns his insides as it goes down his throat, yet he manages to keep a straight face after he washes it down. _At least it isn’t tequila_ , he thinks to himself in a comforting manner. Last time Calle bought tequila for the of them neither Bård nor Vegard lasted much. And Hell, the hangover he got the day later wasn’t pretty at all.

Yet Bård feels good now, lighter, in a way, as if his limbs lacked of any weight. He stands from the chair without many problems, and his eyes quickly scan around the room. The music is loud yet he is able to distinguish faint giggles coming from the people gathered in the living room, though none of them belongs to his brother. His beautiful brother who has the voice of angels. Which means, of course, that Bård doesn’t really have any intentions of joining them. Maybe he is looking for something to eat in the kitchen, considering it’s been a while since they ate something. Bård wants to find Vegard, _needs_ to. Is it that he is missing his brother, too? They tend to stick together whenever they get invited to a party, be it on a formal occasion or a rather random reunion planned by their friends. Today, Vegard refused to join Calle for karaoke and ever since then Bård has lost track of him.

Finally Bård spots a familiar face before walking into the hallway that connects the living room with the kitchen. Calle is laughing next to a guy who is taller than him —not Magnus kind of tall, but still pretty tall—, and Bård steps carefully behind his back, making sure his friend hasn’t spotted him yet. His fingers are cold, and he mischievously reaches to brush his icy fingertips below Calle’s ear in a comic way. The blond immediately jumps in surprise and turns to meet Bård. In spite of the harsh movement, Calle seems unimpressed to see find him there. He turns back to his friend and shoots him a look, and the man disappears in the blink of an eye.

“I thought you were too busy with the vodka bottle to say hi,” Calle practically shouts at his face, and Bård smells the alcohol on his breath. Is Bård’s breath the same? Yeah, it must be, though not as much as his friend’s. “That you even had forgotten about your friend.”

“Forgotten about my friend?” Bård shouts back, high-pitched voice in contrast with Calle’s deep one. “Calle, we’ve been here since two PM. We had lunch in here together!”

“You know what I mean!”

“Can’t you tell them to lower the music?” Bård complains, giving the speakers a nasty look. “God, what the fuck is that? Fucking _Basshunter_?”

“Best song I’ve ever heard.”

“Really? What’s it called?”

Calle rolls his eyes in a rather exaggerated way. “Who the fuck cares!”

“No one, because it sucks.”

“Very funny, Bård.” With his free hand Calle punches him playfully on the shoulder. “Where’s your other half, anyway?”

“That was the same thing I was about to ask you!” Bård exclaims loudly over the distracting beats of the music. “You haven’t seen Vegard?”

He shakes his head. “No, I thought he’d be with you.”

Bård drops his head back theatrically, actions swifter than usual thanks to the alcohol in his system. Why must his brother disappear like that? It makes Bård wish he’d kept his eyes on Vegard during the whole night. Which would truly be a pretty sight, considering his brother is wearing that loosen shirt that makes his collarbones look astonishing.

“I am going back, maybe connect the karaoke again,” Calle says with a hiccup. “Wanna join?”

“No, I—…” Bård glances over Calle’s shoulders when he sees someone with dark hair pass by. It doesn’t take him much to realise those aren’t Vegard’s curls, so he stares back at his friend and blinks. “I need to find Vegard.”

“As if you didn’t see him every single day of your life,” Calle whines.

“You don’t understand, I must speak with him,” he blurts out and mimics a talking signal with his hand. “Can you tell him I’m looking for him if you see him first?”

“Only if you sing _Whole Lotta Love_ on karaoke.”

“Can’t sing.” Bård widens his eyes. “Gotta find Vegard.”

His friend rolls his eyes. “Your miss, Bård Urheim Ylvisåker.”

And with that, Calle turns on his heels and walks away. Before he has a chance to say anything back, he sees Calle showing up his middle finger at him and Bård chuckles.

His thoughts drift back to Vegard, and before his brain gets the memo, his feet are moving on their own towards the kitchen. Once he reaches it, Bård finds two of Calle’s friends making out next to the fridge, which he guesses might be a bit uncomfortable for someone who is really in need for a beer. The two girls are so lost in each other they surely don’t even notice Bård is standing there. Their thighs are intertwined, hands all over each other, lips pressed together and giggles escaping their throats in between each kiss. Bård looks at them nostalgically, the contrast between the tallest girl’s blond hair and the other’s black leaves him wondering whether he’ll ever to do the same.

He tears his gaze off the ladies and turns his back on them. He truly hopes they hadn’t seen him, because he wasn’t being a creeper. Bård makes sure to take another quick glance at the living room and finds Calle holding a microphone close to his face. Is he truly singing _‘Eye of the Tiger’_ now in a high-pitched voice? Hell, his friend’s drunkenness state must be one of the most hilarious things Bård’s ever gotten to see. Nevertheless, after searching for black curls among the people present in the place, Bård finds nothing. Vegard is not there.

 _Upstairs_ , a little voice on the inside of his brain tells him. He truly has no other option than to trust his gut, does he?

The upstairs floor consist of a large and narrow hallway that leads to the main bedroom, a guest’s room and a small bathroom. The decoration is simple. Two abstract paintings hang from the walls, reflecting Calle’s personality to the dot. Bård knocks on every door before opening them to take a look inside. None of them are locked, which leads him to peek his whole head in. Unfortunately, he finds all the rooms empty as well, and the music seems to grow distant as he closes the door that leads to Calle’s room. Where else can he be? Vegard is not one for disappearing like this.

Bård is scratching his head as he marches down the hallway, dragging his feet on the ground. Before he can take the first step down the stairs, his body crashes heavily against another.

A set of black curls bounce in front of him as he feels a tight grip on his forearm, fingers digging into his skin and the other person gives a short yelp. Bård is soon reaching for the other’s hand in order to keep them from falling backwards, and in spite of the slight preoccupation he’s had for some time now, he can’t help a smile from breaking on his face when his eyes finally found the brown he so dearly adores.

“Bård!” His brother exclaims, eyes widening in recognition. Just by the way his pupils seem darker than usual Bård can tell he is drunk. That, and well, the way he reeks of alcohol. “Oh, I’m so glad it’s you, I haven’t seen you in a while. I gotta—”

“Of course it’s me. Where the hell have you been?”

“Can we talk about this in a little? I really need to—”

“I’ve been looking for you for over half an hour, Vegard, I want to know.”

With a parted mouth, just as if he were about to protest, Vegard looks at him and releases his grip on Bård’s forearm, yet keeps clinging onto his hand. “Outside. There’s too much people in the living room. So many. I needed some fresh air.”

“Alright, then why didn’t you tell me?”

He shrugs. “Thought you wanted to spend some time with Calle, karaoke, I don’t know.”

“Okay.” It’s not convincing, but Bård notices he can’t expect much from Vegard now. His brother is paler than usual, even as he carries that silly grin on his face. He climbs up and also pulls Vegard up by his hand before letting go. “I was actually looking for you because there’s something that I really need to tell you.”

“Shit, Bård. Can’t it wait?” Vegard inquires with a tired voice, and he keeps taking brief peeks over Bård’s shoulder while they speak. “I truly need to get to the toilet.”

“No, Vegard, I’ve waited too long already and I really need to tell you this,” Bård blurts out louder than expected. In spite of his tone, Vegard’s face doesn’t look any different, as if his thoughts were suddenly somewhere else. “Just listen out—”

“No, Bård, I can’t.”

Bård doesn’t get the chance to call out for his brother, to insult him for cutting out his inspiration when he had the words at the tip of his tongue. Vegard disappears in the blink of an eye, rushing past Bård and swinging the door to the bathroom open in an abrupt movement. The next thing Bård knows is that his brother is on his knees with his face buried on the toilet, making some gruff sounds.

 _Oh, that’s just great_.

He should’ve suspected this would happen by the paleness on his Vegard’s face and by the way it was hard for his eyelids to flutter open. He knows they’re both considerably weak when it comes to handling strong alcohol, and he wonders whether Vegard has mixed beers with something else. Judging by the way he clings onto the toilet as if his life depended on it, he must had. Bård runs a hand through his dirty hair, fingers combing the locks in place as he steps into the bathroom.

There’s a short pause and Vegard looks up from the toilet seat, the paleness still present and carrying a sick expression on his face that confirms he was trying to be composed before. But before Bård can ask him if he feels better now, Vegard buries his head on the toilet seat again. Bård doesn’t even hesitate before getting closer and kneeling on the floor next to him, a reassuring hand falling on his back like he’s done several times before. He doesn’t feel drunk as he stares at his brother’s miserable shape, perhaps only tipsy and incredibly understanding. Vegard drank too much. Bård starts rubbing small circles on his upper back, the thin layer of his shirt feeling cold at the contact.

“It’s okay, Vegard, it’s okay,” he speaks calmly in hope to soothe him, feeling a faint headache working its way in. “Get it all out, it’ll make you feel better. ”

As if actually paying attention to his words, Vegard empties the contents of his stomach as Bård rubs comfortable circles on his back, body softly trembling under his touch. He can’t help but notice the way Vegard’s knuckles turn white whilst gripping the sides of the ceramic bowl harder. He quickly moves his other hand to stroke Vegard’s right forearm, hoping it would help him feel better, if that’s possible.

It takes another three or four minutes full of brief pauses and throwing up again until Vegard finally lifts his head off the toilet seat and gives a thumbs up that Bård understands as a sign of being done. He helps Vegard lean his back against the tiled wall. Acting like the responsible brother, Bård gets on his feet, pulling down the toilet seat and flushing it down. They have taken care of each other so many times in the past that’s quite an habit knowing just what to do. _And it is a blessing I didn’t take more shots of vodka or we’d probably be making a mess of Calle’s bathroom_ , he absently reckons as he stares down at Vegard. His brother keeps his eyes shut and a small grin on his face as he rests his head against the wall, yet Bård has no idea why on Earth he would be smiling at. Though no explanation may fit. Vegard has always been a happy drunk, anyway.

Bård hands him the toilet paper and watches him clean his face up a little, though he hasn’t really made a mess of himself. Vegard tosses the paper into the bin and brings his knees to his chest, crossing his arms over his knees and burying his face on them. The mass of black curls hide his face, but the way Vegard’s eyes looked watery when they made visual contact before, makes Bård wish he’d kept a careful eye on what his brother drank during the whole night.

“Oh god,” Vegard moans as he slowly lift his head from his arms.

“Are you okay?” Bård asks and ducks on the floor next to him, one hand landing on his shoulder and the other on his wrist. “Need to throw up again?”

“No.” His older brother nods, the curls falling on his forehead. “Head’s a bit funny, but I’m ‘kay.”

“Hmm,” he mumbles between his teeth while he lets go of Vegard’s arm in order to brush the black curls back. Vegard relaxes under his touch, eyelids dropping at the contact. “Are you sleepy?”

“Not at all,” Vegard denies, eyes snapping open again. Bård wants to laugh at his drunken way of reacting, just as if he’s gotten a charge of batteries. “Do you wanna join the karaoke party? Must be good, so, so good!”

“Not rea—”

“I bet Calle has the Groban song, Josh Groban song,” he speaks vividly again before Bård is even able to finish what he’s saying. “ _You raise me up so I can stay on mountains,_ ” he sings, using his best Groban voice, “ _you raise me up to walk on stormy seas._ ”

Not even after puking his brains out and looking completely miserable minutes ago, Vegard is able to sing off key. Bård can’t say he’s impressed at his brother’s drunken interpretation of the so popular song, but he sure applauds the fact he manages to follow the melody without missing a key. Regardless of this, Bård shakes his head and tries to hide a little smile.

“Vegard, shut up,” he says, taking his hands off his brother and getting back to his feet. “We _definitely_ are not going to sing karaoke.”

“ _I am strong when I am on your shoulders._ ”

“No,” Bård warns and takes a step forward so he is standing before his brother. He leans down to take both of Vegard’s hands in his own and straightens again. “Come on, let’s get you on your feet.”

Vegard looks up at him in understanding, but instead of using Bård as a support for standing up, he tries to pull him down in a dull attempt of jumping on his feet. Bård mentally pats himself on the shoulder for not losing his balance. Falling on that small bathroom could cause very painful bruises. However, he notices the only way to get him to stand up is by helping him, so Bård grabs his hands tightly and pulls him up using all of his strength. Vegard immediately lifts from the floor, but apparently he is the one who can’t keep his balance. Rather than standing still, he lets himself be pulled forward and crashes against Bård’s chest. Their proximity is overwhelming.

“Off,” Bård instructs, helping him take a step back and keeping hands on him to steady his posture. “You need to wash your face.”

“Oh, true!” Vegard exclaims, getting a hand on the wall in order to support himself and slowly walk to the sink. “I can’t sing karaoke like this.”

“No karaoke,” Bård hisses under his breath, stepping right behind him.

The water runs on the sink and Bård idly stares at his brother washing his face first, getting water splashed from his forehead to his chin, some curls getting in the way and ending up completely damp. Bård reaches over Vegard’s shoulder and opens the door of the bathroom cabinet, finding a mint mouthwash that comes in handy. He places it on the sink next to Vegard, then places his hand on Vegard’s shoulder. His brother easily takes the cue to wash his mouth, at some point almost drooling on the mouthwash due to a sudden burst of laughter. Bård merely glares at him through the mirror and doesn’t know whether to smile back at him or tell him to hurry up.

After using the mouthwash for the second time, Vegard turns the water off and gives a loud exhale before turning around, causing Bård to furrow his brow in confusion. The colour is starting to return to his face, especially on his cheeks and neck. Even his narrow lips regain their usual pink shade. Yet Bård sees the weariness reflected on his brown irises, the familiar gleam recognisable to Bård’s eye.

“Bård?” Vegard mumbles.

“Yes?” He asks, still keeping his hold on Vegard’s shoulder.

“I’m sleepy.”

“Of course you are,” he asserts out loud, chuckling at himself. He knew Vegard would eventually react this way, he knows him too well. “C’mere.”

Vegard does as told, yet Bård doesn’t seem to be aware of what he asked, because as soon as Vegard steps closer and he feels their chests almost pressing together, he feels claustrophobic, as if all of his visual range is occupied by his brother’s face. However, he quickly makes himself snap out of it, blinking rapidly in order to remember the state they are both on; Vegard drunk and Bård tipsy, a headache on his way.

He throws one of Vegard’s arms around his shoulders and gets hold of him by circling an arm around his waist. Vegard hiccups when Bård makes them cross the hallway and enter the empty guests room. Calle won’t probably mind them in there, anyway, it’s not the first time they’re in need for a bed to crash on after a long night.

Bård closes the door behind them and locks it, unsure whereas other people on the party would want a room to fool around. He helps Vegard to sit down on the right side of the bed, yet as soon as his body touches the mattress the raven haired man lets himself fall backwards, head safely landing on top of the pillows.

“You were saying something earlier,” Vegard speaks, voice tuned down and half of his face hidden by his arm. “You wanted to tell me something.”

Bård’s face heats up, shifting uncomfortably on the same spot. “Oh, yeah, it’s nothing.”

“I thought it was important?”

“It is.” He bites the inside of his cheek as he stares at Vegard’s body, eyes flicking from his curly hair down his perfectly proportioned body and to his toes. “But doesn’t matter. I’ll tell you later.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

Part of him immediately feels awful for making a promise he isn’t sure he’ll be able to fulfil, but Vegard is not going to remember any of this, anyway, is he?

“Bård?”

With a hand on his hip and the other idly scratching his temple, Bård turns to look down at his brother. Vegard removed the arm from his face and is curiously staring at him. Bård holds his gaze for several seconds before finally managing to speak.

“Vegard?”

“Please stay?”

And Bård wishes he could ignore Vegard’s voice when he asks him to stay, but it’s hopeless. All he has to do is take a small glimpse at his brother’s sleepy face and he knows he’ll fall asleep next to him on the mattress. They’ll probably wake up with a massive headache, especially Vegard, but perhaps it’ll be better if he wakes up next to him rather than to an empty bed.

“Fine,” he finally says, taking some steps closer. “Scoot over.”

 

* * *

 

_The day it finally happens._

11:46 PM

 

“This was a good movie pick,” Vegard comments at his side as he lazily stretches his arms up. “I have no idea why we hadn’t watched it before.”

“Last time we were going to watch a movie I suggested it and you said you hated Leo DiCaprio,” Bård reminds him, lowering the volume of the TV. “But yeah, it was really good.”

The lights are all turned off and Bård can’t really be bothered to stand up in order to turn them back on. The credits of the movie are rolling on the screen and the white words are the only light in the place. They are comfortably curled up on the living room’s couch at Vegard’s place, blankets covering their legs and an empty bowl of popcorn on the floor. Their shoulders are almost touching, Vegard not even choosing to sit on the other end of the couch but right in the middle, which Bård took as an encouragement to throw his long legs over Vegard’s thighs to use them as a bench. One of Vegard’s hand is mindlessly resting on top of Bård’s lower legs, rubbing up and down as they watched the movie, and the other holds a small bowl of raisins that he’s been trying to share with Bård for the whole night. Who would ever pick raisins over popcorn?

Spending their time together is the way they chose to spend their New Year’s Eve that year, watching a movie at home rather than joining the rest of the family for their usual holidays meeting or even attending a party in the city. Both their family and friends gave the same kind of reactions, asking if the two of them didn’t spend enough time together already. Whether they do or don’t, Bård likes it this way, spending time with Vegard only and not even bothering to put on fancy clothes. It makes him think of simpler times in the past in which they spent hours hanging out together in the living room until they were so tired they eventually fell asleep on each other’s shoulders.

“I don’t why people make such a big fuss out of New Year’s Eve,” Vegard comments as he throws a raisin into his mouth. “Not that I don’t like welcoming the new year, because you know I do, but other people have so many traditions to follow on New Year’s Eve and many parties to go to, and then look at us; wearing our pyjamas and chilling.”

“Is that some kind of critique?”

“Of course it isn’t, I like this.” Vegard rubs his hand over Bård’s leg vividly, the friction making Bård smile by mere instinct. “The movie was good.”

“Good, because if you are bored I don’t think I need to remind you that you were the one to turn our friend’s offers down,” Bård points out with cockiness.

“Yeah, because I like this better,” Vegard quickly insists, motioning his finger between them. “Watching movies, eating whatever’s left on the fridge and drinking bottles of fine wine with you is far more amusing than being on a party where we don’t know half of the people.”

“I know.” Bård chuckles. “Sounds really fancy when you put it like that, doesn’t it? We are like an old married couple bitching about their youngest friends.”

Vegard waves at him. “Oh, shush it, we are not _that_ old.”

He simply digs his elbow into Vegard’s side as a reply. “But we’re getting there.”

“How long till midnight, anyway?” Vegard asks as he reaches for the almost empty bottle of wine on the table across from them. Bård’s eyes are fixed on him as his lips wrap around the top of the dark green bottle.

“Hmm…” He forces himself to look away, grabbing his iPhone from the armrest of the couch. He notices there are several WhatsApp and text message notifications, but he dismisses them as soon as he unlocks the phone, focusing on the hour on top of the screen. “Nine minutes.”

“Hell.” Vegard’s eyebrows lift in surprise and he throws a couple of raisins into his mouth. “Can’t believe this year is almost over.”

Bård exhales deeply through his nose. A year has passed by and Vegard still has no idea how Bård feels about him. He can hardly believe he’s been trying to tell him for so long, yet it’s true, it’s been more than twelve months full of trial and error, months of staring in silence and wishing he could grab Vegard’s face in his hands and kiss him, whispering how much he loves them between small kisses.

“What is it with you and the raisins anyway?” Bård comments, knowing better than to allow his mind sink further into his own thoughts. His brother has been idly eating raisins ever since the movie started, and in spite of the amount of times he’s thrown the dry fruit into his mouth they seem to never end.

“Oh, I found them on the bottom cabinet on the shelf and they are just so good.” Vegard offers him the small bowl. “Come on, try one.”

He complies, taking one and throwing it in his mouth. The flavour makes him think of all the Christmas bread he’s had during the holidays. “They’re good,” he says, swallowing it with a big gulp of wine. He places the bottle back on the table and brings his knees up to his chest, removing them from Vegard’s lap.

“I know, right?” His brother smiles and mimics Bård’s movements to put the small bowl of raisins next to the bottle. He leans back on the couch and rolls his head, meeting Bård’s gaze with a soft expression. Bård can detail all of his features by the dim light coming from the TV. How can Vegard look so cute in a room full of darkness? “It’s funny,” he comments with a light chuckle. “Raisins are just dry grapes, and wine is a product of fermented grapes. And it’s New Year’s Eve.”

Bård furrows his brow. “Do explain why on Earth that seems funny to you,” he says, knowing Vegard isn’t intoxicated enough to be mumbling nonsense.

“Well, they have this tradition in Spain during New Year’s Eve. They eat a grape each time the bell strikes when they’re doing the countdown to midnight,” Vegard explains, carrying a smile on his face as he speaks. “It’s supposed to bring them good luck for the rest of the year. I don’t know if eating raisins counts as it, though.”

“How do you even know these kind of stuff?”

Vegard waves dismissively at him. “I just read a BuzzFeed article some days ago about New Year’s Eve traditions all over the world.”

“Of course you did.” Bård reaches over to pat Vegard’s shoulder sympathetically. “Tell me about them.”

And so, he can tell Vegard can’t refuse such offer. Once he begins to talk about the topic, his voice becomes more agitated and the signals of excitement are present on his features. Bård gladky listens all his brother has to explain, traditions that come from all over the world that he’s never heard of. The variety goes from Finland to the Philippines, from Turkey to Argentina. They’re all fascinating in their own way, even if russians actually burn a piece of paper and pour the ashes into a glass of champagne to drink it afterwards. It’s all diverse and interesting, and he can see why Vegard read about it. Moreover, he can tell Vegard digged more into each one after reading a short BuzzFeed article, he knows Vegard that much.

“What about the kiss at midnight?” Bård inquires after his brother finishes his speech. “I like that one.”

“A bit romantic, aren’t we?” Vegard teases him, to which he immediately rolls his eyes. However, as a gentle response to his exaggerated eye roll, Vegard reaches to place his hand on the back of his neck, the fingers gingerly caressing over the little hairs slowly growing on his head. “The article didn’t mention that one, but I guess it’s a Western tradition, blatantly popular by the impact of the American media.”

“Should’ve guessed that.”

“Yeah…” Vegard withdraws his hand. “I like that one too, though. To kiss the one you love as the first thing you do on a new year. It’s very poetic.”

“Now who’s the romantic one?”

“Oh, shut up, you were the one who—”

Before Vegard gets the chance to continue there’s a loud sound outside that’s followed by the whole room lightening up by a bright green light. Bård’s head instantly flies in its direction. Through the window they’re able to get a wonderful sight of the rest of the city, and it doesn’t take long until the first explosion gets followed by many more, the living room flashing with different kind of bright colours as the fireworks explode on the city skyline.

Bård doesn’t know what drives him to do it. Perhaps it’s the way bright lights from the fireworks get reflected on Vegard’s face, or it might something to do with the way his brother smiles as he stares at the beautiful lights on the dark sky, eyes brightening and cheeks looking even more chubby as he smiles widely. Bård can’t truly say what’s the fuel that lights up the flame inside of him that forces him to close his eyes and lean in when Vegard’s head turns in his direction, but the next thing he knows is that his lips are pressing against his brother’s in a soft manner, slightly parted as he takes Vegard’s bottom lip between his own. Bård is aware Vegard turned in his direction to wish him a Happy New Year, but he can’t hold himself back, he can’t withdraw when he’s finally able to say without words what he’s been trying to for months. His hand slowly moves upwards until it settles on Vegard’s cheek, and he starts kissing him a little bit faster as he feels his heart beat against his ribcage.

The fireworks outside don’t compare to the ones that light up on the inside of Bård’s chest when he feels Vegard moving his lips against his own, slowly kissing him back. It’s not a fantasy, it’s real, it’s exactly how Bård dreamt it would be. Honestly, in spite of how long he has craved for Vegard’s lips on his own, he doesn’t kiss him hungrily, the right amount of speed for it to be sweet yet needy. He feels Vegard’s smile against his mouth when he pulls back a little, and the motion only encourages him to lean in again and meet his brother’s lips for the second time that evening. This time he notices there’s a faint trace of wine still present on his lips, and he wonders whether it’s his own or from Vegard’s mouth. As long as he can keep tasting them, he doesn’t truly care.

They break apart only when the fireworks outside die and the silence around them make them self-conscious of the sounds their lips make every time they meet. Bård is the one to pull apart first, yet he doesn’t back away from him, the distance is only affected by mere millimetres that allow them to stare into each other's eyes.

“Oh, finally,” Vegard breathes over his mouth, leaning in again to peek his lips. The contact forces Bård’s eyelids to flutter shut. It makes Bård feel like he’s on fire, his mouth burning after Vegard draws back. “What took you so long to do that?”

Vegard’s words take him by surprise, his mouth instantly falling open as he studies what he said. Bård opens his eyes and leans back to stare at his brother’s face, yet his hand keeps holding his cheek.

“What?” Bård hisses.

“I’ve been waiting for _month_ s for you to do that. I ever considered doing it myself a couple of times, but I wanted to know how disposed you were into this.”

“You knew?”

Vegard smiles, turning his face under Bård’s touch to place a soft kiss on his palm. “Of course I knew, I’ve known for months already. Have you forgotten that I know you better than anyone else does?”

He is unbelievable. The smug and relieved expression on Vegard’s face makes Bård open his mouth again, feeling a rush of adrenaline run down his spine. Of all the reactions he expected from his brother, this isn’t one of them. Bård’s hand immediately drops from his face to punch Vegard’s shoulder.

“You asshole!”

“Ouch! What was that for?”

“You knew!” He widens his eyes as the words leave his mouth. “You fucking knew. I’ve been trying to tell you for more than a year, almost losing my mind every time I tried to tell you but failed because it was never the right time,” Bård exclaims in one go, feeling the lack of air into his lungs from talking too fast. He punches Vegard’s shoulder again. “And you’ve known all along!?”

“Hey,” Vegard laughs and reaches to take both of Bård’s hands in his own and leaning in to press their lips together once more. Bård wants to be upset, but he can’t be bothered to fake grumpiness when Vegard is taking his lower lip between his teeth and giving it a playful bite. “It doesn’t matter if it would have taken you years to tell me, I would’ve waited for you,” he whispers softly over his lips. “And of course I knew, Bård, I’m not blind, I see the way you look at me.” Vegard leans in again and closes the small distance separating them as their mouths crash together. The kiss is sweet and paused, both of them taking their time to discover each other’s mouths. Vegard slowly pulls back, leaving Bård open mouthed and with many questions. “And if only you hadn’t been so worried on whether to tell me or not, you would have noticed that I was looking at you too.”

“Oh, God, I hate you,” he breathes over his lips. “I hate you so much.”

Vegard is grinning at him, and Bård sees the love reflected in his dark pupils. “Better keep on hating me like this, then.”

“You are unbelievable sweet for being an awful person.”

“I’m not an awful person!”

Bård leans in but stops right before his lips are able to touch. “You fucking knew all along and never said a thing,” he says, feeling their lips brush as he speaks the words. “You are an awful person.”

“Come on,” Vegard mumbles back, “let me make it up to you.”

“You’re lucky this year is starting because you’ll have to make it up to me for the whole year.”

“Yeah?” He chuckles. “That’s good, because I plan on kissing you for as long as you want me to.”

“God, you are so ridiculously sweet.”

“I told you you weren’t the only one who loved midnight kisses on New Year’s Eve.”

Bård smiles.

It’s going to be a good year.

**Author's Note:**

> I tried to work on a timeline in here but without much accuracy. Perhaps some of you have noticed this, but if not, let’s just say that the first scene is set around September 2013 and the last one on December 2014. For if there are any grammar mistakes/typos I'm terribly sorry! I'll do a reread of this in some days.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! ♥


End file.
